Moving 2.0

After the more than ample amount of practice the weekend before last, the for-real for-real move of this past weekend was relatively easy and pain-free. "Pain-free" as in no major problems that could not be averted, not as in "free of physical pain." Or "free of mental anguish from the cost of moving." I'm still working on that.

We were able to pick the U-Haul up at 8:30, which was good. I didn't want to have to wait until after 10:30 as we did when we helped Edgar's parents move. At that point it's just already too late. So, anyways, the U-Haul. We drove it over to the storage unit and got everything loaded up. There was a frightening moment at the end because we had it completely filled up, and we still had to make a stop at our in-laws house to pick up our bed, TV, nightstand, and some boxes. It all worked out in the end, but not without a lot of frustration and rearranging.

First speed bump: crazy thieving storage unit. We paid for a full month for the storage unit on September 2nd. Our account was on automatic withdrawal, so we went ahead and let it go through because we assumed (apparently ridiculously incorrectly) that we would then be refunded for the remainder of the month once we vacated the storage unit, as is standard business practice. Apparently NOT for stupid QUALITY SELF STORAGE IN WEST COVINA. SO NOT QUALITY. DO NOT USE THEM. THEY ARE MEAN AND THEY STEAL YOUR MONEY AND WON'T GIVE YOU A REFUND AND THEN TALK TO YOU LIKE A CHILD WHEN YOU ASK THEM WHY NOT. Bitches. According to them it's all our fault because we needed to tell them 2 weeks in advance of the payment coming out that we would be leaving the storage unit this month. Um, ok, so I get that they needed time to remove us from their auto-payments. But why the eff can they not issue us a refund for the three and a half weeks that we're not using the unit? THIEVES!!!! I hate them.

I had to make a concious effort to calm myself down after that. I could tell that Edgar was getting annoyed that I was being pissy, and so to save us all the trouble I forced myself to chill out in the car on the way to his parent's house.

At his parents I had to suffer through the indignity of being a bad pet owner; for the sake of not letting Fiyero escape I had to once again lock him in the bathroom. Every time I would walk by the bathroom door or speak, I would hear this sad, patheitc, "merow!" come from inside the bathroom. And with it's high ceiling and tile, it would echo. I was in hell. He decided to make me suffer too, causing the car ride to Long Beach to be very uncomfortable. Fiyero far outgrew his kitty-carrier a long time ago; he's just ridiculously long. Sometimes when he stretches all the way out, it looks like he's as big as a dog. Anyways. Kitty-carrier-free cat is a roving cat. He started out the trip so well; he sat on the passenger seat and stared at me. As long as I kept petting him with my right hand and driving with my left, he was fine. But about 10 miles in to the trip he decided it was time to sit on my lap. Even that was ok, if not a little uncomfortable. But then he decided that the best place for him was not my lap, but he wasn't sure where to go. So he climbed up on my shoulder. Hind legs on my shoulder, front paws on the seat back, ass in my ear. After standing there for a minute, he tried to walk across the back of my shoulders. But instead of then climbing down on to the seat, he decided to lay down. THE CAT WAS LAYING DOWN ON THE BACK OF MY SHOULDERS WHILE I WAS TRYING TO DRIVE ON THE 605 FREEWAY. Not good. So not good. I was hunched over that steering wheel like an 80 year old Asian lady. We finally hit some traffic where I had to completely stop, so I was able to use both hands to get him off me. I put him back in the passenger seat, but he kept trying to walk onto my lap and get down by my feet with the pedals. Which of course is ridiculously dangerous, so I had to keep throwing him off my lap into the passenger seat. I think he was doing it just to annoy me, because once we were off the freeway he settled down again and was all, "Look at me, I'm so cute sitting here in the passenger seat with my tail curled around me and rubbing my paws. Don't you love me?" Oh, Fiyero.

Speed bump number two: unfortunately when we got to the apartment, the leasing office was closed. They have one person working on Saturday and she was out to lunch. So after loitering outside the building for 45 minutes, we were finally able to get in, sign our lease, and get our keys. The actual moving in was pretty easy. We had a big appliance dolly from UHaul for the big furniture and another smaller dolly that I borrowed from work to move boxes. I think it took around four hours for us to move everything in to the apartment. It probably could have taken less time but at the end we were all being lazy and not really lifting anything without the help of one of the dollies. Oh well, we were still done much faster than we were last week.

Speed bump number three: parking ticket! Oopsy. All of the street parking around our building is metered. The meter on my mother-in-law's car was empty for about 15 minutes, and she got a ticket. We hadn't seen a meter reader the entire day. We had someone downstairs with the UHaul and the cars and a roll of quarters at all times. But for the last 15 minutes before she left, while she was upstairs saying goodbye, the reader magically appeared and gave her a ticket. Figures.

We returned the UHaul after that, not without some drama. Edgar just may have clipped a stopped bus that he was going around on Long Beach Boulevard. Maaaaaaybe. He doesn't know, I couldn't tell, the bus driver didn't run out yelling at him, so it's probably ok. Proooooooobably.

Dinner was quite the adventure. Since we didn't have any food yet, we stopped at a Carl's Jr. to eat. Oh my, Carl's Jr. I was heading to the restroom to wash my hands before we ate, when I was abruptly stopped by a meter on the door, needing to insert a quarter in order to open the door. According to Edgar, this was not a good sign. Apparently the pay locks are on the door to keep homeless junkies from coming in and shooting up in the bathroom (this was all very comforting on my first evening in a new city in a restaurant a few blocks from my new place, as you can imagine). Anyways, I already wasted all of my quarters on the aforementioned parking meters, so the whole hand-washing thing ended up being a non-starter.

We were able to get a lot of our packing done on the first night after we got back from dinner. This is where I sustained by most egregious injury of the weekend. I had climbed up on top of the kitchen counter to put some vases on top of a cabinet, and when I was trying to get back down I slipped and jammed the top of my knee against one of the knobs on the lower cabinets. Within the hour I had a gold-ball sized lump and a huge purple bruise in the same spot. Luckily by now the swelling has gone down and the bruise is getting that yellowish look, so I think I'll get to keep the leg. No permanent damage done. It still hurts though :(

Good news: the cat didn't freak out. He actually didn't even close himself up like a basket case as he did last week while we were unpacking. He was out playing with things, running up and down the stairs to the loft, and generally just having a good time. It was kind of amazing how quickly he adapted. I think he recognized all of our old furniture and realized "Ok, this is home, I'm safe here." Thank goodness.

Sunday was an interesting day. We got up at 7 am. The only reason we got up that early was because out DirecTV installation appointment was scheduled in the 8am-12pm window. We wanted to be able to eat breakfast and shower before he got there. Which turned out to be totally unnecessary since he didn't show up until 12:30. Thanks, DirecTV subcontractor. I could have slept in. (On another note, I was able to walk to a Denny's down the street to get us pancakes for breakfast, which was kind of awesome).

DirecTV guy was there for FIVE HOURS. Normally, installation takes about two hours at the most. They were having problems activating the new receiver that we ordered from them. It took 4 people on the phone and 3 hours to figure out that it was because the NFL Sunday Ticket package on the account was expired, so they couldn't activate anything new. Which is awesome, since we have already told DirecTV about four times since we ordered our service that we wanted the package on our account to be renewed. THANKS FOR WASTING THREE HOURS OF MY LIFE. Then came the lovely fact that the receiver they were trying to activate was broken, and we had to wait for the installer's coworker to bring us a good one. Stellar.

After that fiasco came the Verizon fiasco. I was trying to set up our internet service but the installation wouldn't complete. I called Verizon and they told me after running some tests that there was a problem with the line and they would have to have their central office run some tests and if that didn't work they would have to send a technician out. Which royally pissed me off. Don't send me an e-mail on 9/4/09 saying "Congratulations! Your internet service is ready!" if it is NOT READY. And certainly do not tell me that if you have to send a technician out that you can't tell me today what day it will be and that you can't come after 6pm when I'm home from work. YOU are the ones that fucked up and I will not be taking unpaid time off from work in order for you to fix the problem. I eventually got to speak with a supervisor who told me after I had to do a lot of yelling that they could have some one come out after 6 pm, but I would have to call the next day to reschedule the appointment that he was going to give me to the 6 pm hour. Um, excuse me? You want to schedule me your stupid four hour window appointment for a time that you know I can't do and make me call back to reschedule it for after 6 o'clock? If you can reschedule an appointment to 6 o'clock, you can schedule an appointment for 6 o'clock. And this guy was a supervisor. Whatever. Eventually this culminated in me screaming at the guy to cancel my service. Which he of course stated that he could not do because I would have to speak with the cancellation department and they were closed. FUCK YOU VERIZON.

I don't like being mean. I used to do customer service and I hated it when people would scream and yell at me about something that I could not change. But these people were just screwing with me. If you're a supervisor, you have the power to do things that regular reps can't. Don't tell me that you can't do something. Give me a resolution. I know the tricks that you have up your sleeve and I'm not going to sit there and be walked over.

I ended up hanging up on the guy. I called back today to cancel the service, and I was told that they've escalated the issue and will have a resolution by tomorrow. I still wanted to cancel, but unfortunately, my phone battery died in the middle of the converstaion. Of course. Stellar, once again. I just can't seem to get it together with Verizon! I'm giving them one more chance when I call back this evening. If they have an answer for me, and can send a technician out this Friday when I am off from work, I won't cancel it. Anything else, bye-bye Verizon. I hate them. They make me miserable. I just want the internet at home!! I hate only having access to it from my office! Ugh.

My New Job

I just want to say that I'm really sort of loving my new job. I work as an account manager (for lack of a better term that doesn't require loads of explanation) for a small company that runs an online billing service. Including our CEO, there are 12 people in my office. Quite the change from my previous jobs where employees numbered in the hundreds.

The small business environment is soooooo different from the large corporate environment. Dress code? What dress code? I've never seen my CEO in anything other than cargo shorts and flip flops. This week, we started working 9/80s, which means that instead of working 80 hours over a 2-week, 10 day period, we work the 80 hours over a 9 day period: meaning EVERY OTHER FRIDAY OFF. Score! We ordered some food in for lunch today and took an hour and a half lunch break (we technically get 30 minutes); our boss even joined us for about 45 minutes of it.

The people are different too. When you work in a corporate environment, everything is so political. Greedy people selling you out to try to get that promotion ahead of you. It's not like that here. First off, there's no middle management bureaucracy. We have our CEO, an operations manager, and a supervisor. There's not a mish-mash of departments with a VP of this and VP of that, and "Oh, did you hear so-and-so in this-n-that department is retiring and they're going to promote somebody and I hope it's me." Everyone just chills and does their job. Responsibility is divied up equally and it's not about proving you're better than anyway else. People are encouraging and friendly, not standoff-ish.

It's always hard to enter a new work environment, but I think this is the easiest transition I ever made. My first job was working at a restaurant when I was 16. Restaurants are different than any other workplace, I think. Because of the hours that you work and the lifestyle that a lot of restaurant workers lead, there's always something going on. Your fellow employees tend to be students in college, or people that never went to college and therefore can't really get your typical office job. Party here, party there. Everyone is cool, and you get invited to go out with them, but there's still a period of acceptance where you have to show that you can hang. That's a whole lot of going out. Still, I loved working at that restaurant; I had a lot of good friends during that time.

With the job that I was working at when I moved to California, I was working in a customer service call center for an insurance company. Call centers are a whole 'nother thing too. With call centers, you typically start out in a training class. You are with a big group of people that are all new too, so you band together and make friends that way. Those people are the ones that you tend to stick with; you usually spend upwards of 8 weeks with them in a classroom with the same breaks and the same lunches. Once you're "out on the floor" you don't have to worry about the other employees accepting you because you've already got your group. Call centers are clique-y. Not intentionally, but it just happens by design. I had that in Indiana. Once I moved to California, I was like an outsider again. I didn't have a class of friends. And everyone else already had their class, and there's not really room for outsiders.

When I went to work for the mortgage company from hell, that was my first work experience entering a corporate environment as a single person by myself. It was a really strange time. I was no longer in a world of "hey, what are you doing this weekend?" or "wanna go get a drink after we get out of here?" It was really hard for me to adapt. It wasn't a place where coworkers were friends outside of work. It actually was kind of was a lonely time for me. Since moving to California, I haven't really made a lot of friends. Not because I'm mean or have no personality or whatever, but mostly because I don't really have the forum to meet any. When you're younger, your main way to meet friends is through school and work. Since I lost that college forum four years ago when I graduated, that left work. And there I was in a place where people weren't really interested in getting work friends. Except for these two girls, but their conversations were so vapid I couldn't stand to listen to them.

So that brings me to where I am now. I've been here six weeks. Everyone is so nice. They're actually interested in what I did last weekend, or what my plans are for this weekend. They're interested to know how I met my husband. They ask questions, they're involved. Some of the girls have a happy hour planned for an evening next week and they invited me.

It's really refreshing to be in job where I actually enjoy going to it. Sure, I get the Sunday night blues, because who really wants to get up on Monday mornings to fight traffic and go to work? But the point is, once I'm there, I like my job. It's refreshing to be in a job where I'm given responsibility and accountibility. It's refreshing to work with people who don't suck and who I actually want to be friends with, not people that I pretend to be friends with from 8am-5pm because I feel obligated to.

Everyone always says when you get laid off from a job "Don't worry, you'll find something better." I think I have.

To Kill a Mockingbird

I'm currently reading "To Kill a Mockingbird," and I have to say that I'm enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would. My main memory of it is watching the movie in eighth grade English class. Yes, we watched the movie, but didn't read the book. THAT, my friends, is some quality education.

Even the movie I don't remember much about. I remember Gregory Peck being super handsome back in his young days. And I remember the way the little girl that played Scout said "Atticus." She would stretch the "-cus" into this shade-too-long syllable with a pitch change in the middle. No one in eighth grade pulled any themes out of the movie; the only thing that we got from it was a week of kids saying "Atticu-us."

Anyways, I'm really enjoying the book. Despite the serious nature of the events that it describes, it's actually really funny. Harper Lee writes the thoughts of an eight or nine year old kid very well.

I'm in the middle of an endeavor right now. I have a list numbering somewhere around 500 books that I want to read. My current plan of attack is taking the list to the library, randomly picking a book on it, and checking it out. I'm excited about moving to our new place tomorrow because the Long Beach library is only about a half mile walk from our apartment, and it looks bigger than the Covina public library that I've been using lately. I'll try to keep track here in my posts of what the current book is.

My PSA for the day: Adults, get your kids library cards. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

I'm Okay, You're Okay, We're All Okay

Well, apparently my bad vibes yesterday regarding my brother-in-law planning to wimp out on helping us move this weekend radiated out of the computer and through the world and into his head, because he has decided to suck it up and help us.

'Douchebag' title is hereby removed.

The PS3 and All of its Foibles

Anyone who has every bought a Playstation 3 is aware of the very high cost of it: mainly, $399.99 and hours of quality time with your husband. I bought Edgar a 40GB PS3 for Christmas in 2007. He'd mentioned many times before that how much he'd love to have a PS3 so that he could play Madden Whatever Year. Being the wonderful fiance that I was at the time, I decided to surprise him with it for Christmas. So my present for Christmas was watching him turn into a 12 year-old boy.

I bought the 40GB because it was the cheapest model. We didn't need the fancy 80GB one; he's not a hard-core gamer, he just likes to spend a couple of hours pretending he's one of the Pittsburgh Steelers. And occasionally a soccer player in a FIFA tournament. Or a commando. Sometimes I'm even Harry Potter. Or a rockin' Guitar Hero. Anyways, 40GB suited our needs and had a Blue-Ray player, so all was well.

Until about four months after we got it, when it just decided that it was no longer going to read any discs. Luckily through the online retailer that I bought it from, we had a one year warranty. We sent the PS3 in and it was replaced. So all once again seemed right with the world.

Until right after Christmas of 2008. Edgar was so happy, playing his brand new Madden 09 game; he had smashed his way through an undefeated regular season and made it through the playoffs unscathed. When he turned the system on that final day to begin his oh-so-glorious, sure-to-be-a-victory Super Bowl game.....the PS3 was broken. Again. After spending a few hours on the phone with tech support and nearly losing a disc to the bowels of the game system, we were back at square one. The warranty was no longer valid, and PS3 wouldn't replace the system; they would only repair it at a nice and neat price tag of $200.00. We decided at the time that it wasn't worth it. By this time we were living with his mom and dad because he was out of work and I was a few short weeks away from my layoff going into effect (I luckily had several months notice before my last day). It didn't seem prudent at the time to shell out $200.00 when we didn't know how quickly he or I would be able to find a job. Job searches had been fruitless to that point. We hadn't even bought each other or any other family members Christmas presents because of our situation; the Madden 09 was a gift to him from my parents.

Once we were both working again, we decided it was time to get another place station. We chose against having the old one repaired; better to go new. The problems of the old one probably stemmed from the fact that it was the cheapest model at the time; they don't even make those anymore. Some might ask "Why even buy one if your old one wasn't great and was a waste of money?" My answer is because there a couple of hundred dollars worth of games and Blue-Ray movies that will be worthless if we don't. The better 80GB model was retailing for $399.99 now at Best Buy, so we were able to get a better system at the same price of the old one.

This was 8/12/09.

Yesterday, Edgar heard on the radio that the PS3s were being sold for $299.99 at Best Buy. Murphy's friggin' law, of course Sony would knock the price down $100.00 after we bought it. Luckily, we still had the receipt and were able to go back to Best Buy and have a price adjustment done.

I'm not sure what the timeframe is to get a price adjustment done, but I think with most places you had to have bought the item within 30 days of its price being lowered. I guess I should count myself among the lucky that a month hadn't gone by. It's kind of silly because when we got the credit for the price adjustment, my husband and I got that happy feeling of "Oh, yay, we're saving $100!" (actually $109.25 when you count the tax). Except we're not really saving money since we're still spending $299.99 in the first place.

Ah, funny how the mind of a consumer works.

I'm Pissed

I tend not to like to use the term "douche" or "douchebag" to describe anybody, because I think the word is, generally, well......douche-y. But I'm doing it this time. And I apologize in advance for what I feel will be an inappropriate use of All Caps Lock sentences.

My brother-in-law is a douchebag.

Edgar and I confirmed yesterday afternoon that we will indeed be able to move into our apartment this weekend. All of my initial fears about logistics were generally assuaged. When I called DirecTV they were were able to move our installation date to this coming Sunday. Our phone line will be working by then; the internet will take a few extra days but I always have access at work so that's no big deal. I was able to get our service started with Edison, and when The Hubby called UHaul last night they told him that he would be able to change the reservation to this Saturday as opposed to the 12th.

I started to get worried when it came to getting people to help us move. Two of Edgar's friends that were going to help us next weekend are going to be out of town this weekend. We thought that it sucked, but hey, what could we expect on short notice? It would be fine with me, Edgar, and his brother.

Or so we thought.

My brother-in-law responded to my husband's message to him that we would be moving this weekend instead of next weekend by saying that he would NOT be helping us.

Let me repeat that.

My brother-in-law is NOT going to help us move.

What kind of jackass loser doesn't help his brother move when he's in town, not sick or injured, and doesn't have any plans?! He says he's too tired from helping their parents move this past weekend. Well guess what, buddy? I'M TIRED TOO. But I'm not complaining (except about him).

It's not like this move is going to be as taxing to the body as his parents' move was. All of our things are in storage. Initially, it's a matter of loading everything from the storage unit into the truck. No stairs. No trying to finagle akward shaped furtniture through doors. None of our furniture is even heavy like their parents' stuff is. That could be finished in under an hour. Then it's a brief stop at where we're living now to load our bed, nightstand, and some boxes into the truck, then off to Long Beach. Once we're there, it's not going to be much harder to move the stuff in. We'll be on the 3rd floor, yes, but there are two elevators. You don't even have to navigate the furniture up the stairs. Edgar is borrowing big dollies from his work, so even the lifting and carrying of furniture can be reduced to just putting it on a dolly. Even inside, it's not like I'm asking him to arrange the furniture and unpack for us. Edgar and I will gladly do that on our own. It's an easy job that should be done in less than four hours if you don't count the commute time. Four hours of a THREE DAY WEEKEND. FROM A MAN BOASTING LAST WEEK THAT HE HAS OVER 120 HOURS OF VACATION TIME ACCRUED AT WORK.

Ugh.

Grow up. Stop being a little girl. Man up, princess.

I don't know how far I can push my husband about this either. He's mad at his brother too, but his tolerance for hearing people talk shit about him is lower than most, since they're twins. Oh, wait, nevermind....HOW DO YOU NOT HELP YOUR TWIN BROTHER MOVE?!

Moving Two Weeks in a Row?

I might not get a weekend off to relax; we could be moving to Long Beach this weekend. Eeek!

As I've laid out in previous posts, my husband and I currently live with his parents due to us both losing our jobs around the same time. We figured, hey, what's the point in struggling for money and dealing with the stress of not knowing if we would be able to pay our other bills and ruining my good credit score when there is an extra bedroom with them? It hasn't all been sunshine and roses of course.

When my husband and I both finally were working again (thanks, Economy, we owe you a swift kick to your huge, all encompassing ass) we quickly found a pretty damn awesome loft-style apartment in downtown Long Beach. It's less than two miles from the beach, it's in walking distance of a lot of great bars and restaurants, it's on the same block as a Metro station, it's got a state of the art gym, it's got this sick washer/dryer combination from the future (more on that at another time)...it all around rocks. Of course, that could all change; you never really know a place until you've actually lived there. We were hip on the beach location because it never gets as hot as where we're living right now. Not as hot=less A/C usage=lower electric bills. Everybody wins.

When we went to visit the building, the unit we wanted was not available until 9/8/09. That day is a Tuesday, so we knew we wouldn't be able to actually move in until Saturday, 9/12/09. Which we figured, ok, fine, 7 more weeks with Edgar's parents and then we're out. Of course they made the decision about two days later that they would be moving as well and that plunged us into the whole "Two Moves in Two Weeks" circle of hell.

Edgar called the apartment's office this morning to schedule a time for us to come in this Saturday to sign our lease since we won't be able to make it any time on Tuesday 9/8, and he was told that we might be able to move this Saturday instead. Apparently they think they might be able to have it ready by then and want the 3 day weekend to be available to us for the move. Um, rock on apartment community! Way to care about your new residents! I'm totally stoked right now. My body is not; my body is screaming with every fiber of its being that I am in no way to go through moving again one week after doing it the first time.

Of course, this is all conjecture. They're supposed to call Edgar back this afternoon to let him know one way or the other if it will be possible. And of course, it opens a whole 'nuther can of worms of things to get done this week. We have our DirecTV installation scheduled for the 12th, but it might be too short of a notice to have it moved up to this Saturday, the 5th. We don't have our internet or phone service set up yet either. That can be ordered any time, but with Verizon they have this weird thing where they're like "ooo, we're Verizon and we're everywhere, la la la la la, but it will still take two weeks for your phone service to work." Which is unfortunate because we need the phone line in order to get our NFLSunday Ticket with DirecTV. I also need to call Edison to get our electric service started. Plus we'll have to change our UHaul reservation; hopefully there will be a truck available that's the size we need.

And, oh yeah, the cat might have a heart attack.

It's all a bunch of craziness, but if it means being into our own place, with our own way of doing things, and having our privacy back, I think that I won't mind advancing through a few more of those circles on hell into the "Two Moves In One Week" circle. After all, there's always Home Depot.