Will the move ever end?

I have spent the last few days sorting through things in boxes. How did I ever accumulate so much stuff? What I have discovered is that at least half of it is trash. I have found some interesting finds along the way though. Why just this morning I found my hard copy of The Purity Test. Way back in the dark ages when I was in college, my friends and I used to say that we were going to throw a "Lower Your Score" party. The way this works is that upon arrival, guests would take the test. By the time they left the party, there score had to be lower. This would be a challenge for some of my friends. Animals? I don't think so. One has to draw the line somewhere.

Now I have the thrill of re-boxing the stuff that I actually plan to keep as I haven't figured where I am going to put it these days. And, yes, Gloria, that is why I refuse to take photos currently. Also I need to recharge my camera. Well, first I need to locate it. I know it is in one of these boxes.

Bad daughter? Who cares?

So I just got back from visiting my dad and stepmother. I went for the rack of lamb but was pleasantly surprised when my stepmother presented me with a card. It was a housewarming gift and contained a check for $100. I now suddenly feel the urge to run to IKEA.

I could use some more bookcases. But then again I still don't have a bed or table and chairs. (Before you get too concerned I have been sleeping on the futon in the living room until I can get a bed.) I'm thinking that if I wait until my next payday in two weeks, then I should go out and get the table and chairs. Which to get is the big question. There is always the Jokk set. Then there is Norden table. The problem with the Norden is that then I have to try to select chairs. The obvious choice wouold be the Stefan in blue, but I also like the Roger. Then again, I'm not necessarily thrilled with the price for the Roger -- $236 for four chairs. Uh oh. I just noticed Bertil.

As you can see, I am in dire need of help. I gladly welcome your opinions.

I am a bad daughter

So today I finally took care of the one task that I have been dreading -- telling my mother about my move. I guess I should give you some background so that you can understand.

About ten years ago my mother retired and moved to Mexico. Her house in the Bay area stood empty for a year or two. Why? Because at that time I was living in a fabulous apartment in San Francisco. I would go and check on the house once a month. Then I got the deluded idea of moving back into the house. I had recently changed jobs and it was a shorter commute from the house. It was supposed to be a temporary thing.

I woke up one day last fall and realized that this temporary thing had lasted for eight years. In that time period I had noticed a marked decline in my social life. (OK. So part of it was that many of my friends had gone off and gotten married during those years. I guess I could have too. Well, I did have the opportunity to do so once, but that's another story.) I also came to the realization that my mother has a way of trying to undermine anything that she perceives may take me away from my house-sitting duties.

House-sitting ... well there's a major bone of contention. My mother has always believed that she is doing me a huge favor by letting me live in the house. (She reiterated this today as she screamed in the phone at me.) I have always seen it as more of a symbiotic relationship. We both get something out of it.

After much screaming -- on my mother's part -- it comes down to I have until April 12 to get all of my stuff out of the house and to clean it. I assured her that I had every intention of doing this. Oh, and the reason for that deadline is that is when my mother returns to the house for a quick vacation. Did I fail to mention that? See, the real fun of the living situation is that my mother returns whenever she wants, for as long as she wants. It is her house after all. I, in turn, get the thrill of changing my life or getting yelled at if I fail to do so. Last September it escalated to her doing things like unplugging the garage door opener so that I could not get back in. And she wonders why I wanted to move?

At least the worst is over. Now I just have to concentrate on packing, unpacking, and cleaning. Oh ... and I am planning on throwing myself a housewarming party in a few weeks. I have purposefully planned it for a date on which I know my mother will be present. It's her choice if she wants to show up. I hope to take loads of pictures that day too. Yes, Gloria, I will post the pictures at that time.

From the mouths of babes

So Gloria thinks that I should post more photos of my new home. I would but it's a total mess so instead I'll give you this.

Teaching today (yes, people honestly trust me with impressionable minds) one of my students asked about my tastes in movies. Poor fool didn't know what door he was opening. He had made his dad watch "Donnie Darko." The student asked if I had ssen it; I said at least twice. (Of course I mostly teach math so this is definitely tangential.) I have not seen the director's cut so we had to discuss that. He then stated that his dad made him watch an older film that was a parody of 50s horror. It took me two guesses to determine that the film in question was "Rocky Horror." Why do I suddenly feel so old? I explained to him that "Rocky Horror" is best seen in a theater at midnight with a full cast and props. I knew that I loved his dad. When I met with his dad in a conference recently, he (the dad) paused to tell me that his political views were pretty far left, like Marx. Pretty heartening to hear that a lawyer feels, or at least supposedly feels, for the people.

Of course what really disturbed me is that dad made reference to 50s horror (such a statement on the Cold War) without actually showing the poor kid any of the movies from the era. I asked, "Of course you have seen 'The Incredible Shrinking Man?'" The answer was, "No." The answer was the same to all the films I named. Why do parents insist on examples without giving the full history?

I guess I don't understand because I am not a parent. I just spend more time with kids than most of their parents do. What do I know?

Internet at home ... again

Good ole Chuck.

I am happy to say that I finally have an internet connection at my new place. I am also off work this weekend. Therefore, I should be out partying, but noooooo ... it has to start raining today.

That's ok though. Besides getting my internet connection today, I also added cable TV. I have not had cable TV in eight years. I think I will stare at it endlessly tonight while flipping through the plethora of channels.

What's up with the picture, you ask? Well, I figure that nothing says Friday night like two buck Chuck.

Lost and Found

I am pleased to say that I have located my flatware over the weekend. I also moved my computer and desk over the weekend. Unfortunately I will not have an internet connection at my new place until Friday. (I am writing this post at work. Hopefully, my boss -- or even worse, her boss -- does not plan to walk into my office soon.)

Now that I have the necessities of life at my new place, I have begun to go out to explore the neighborhood. I'll try to remember to take a camera with me the next time I'm out and about. Since I don't have to work this weekend, it should probably be then.

Until I get an internet connection at home, ciao!

This is what my life has become

As you know, I have been moving recently. Due to my strange work schedule, it has been a slow process. I'm almost finished though. Tonight I had to rush the instructors out of the center because I desperately needed to go shopping.

It is a shame that the highlight of my day was heading to K-Mart this evening. They have some of my favorite towels though. (I went with the blush and the sky blue.) It also seemed right to buy the lovely Martha Stewart towels to celebrate her release from jail. (I'm still waiting for them to lock up Kenneth Lay.) A co-worker tried to dissuade me from shopping at K-Mart as they are a "red" store. I had already checked out Target though and their towels just weren't as soft. I think a towel should not feel like a thin piece of sandpaper. Hmmm ... I have the same thoughts about toilet paper. Basically, anything that touches your skin should not feel like sandpaper. (Oh dear. I was about to digress into a whole thing about men with facial hair, but perhaps I should save that for another time.)

Of course I was not content to stop with the towels. I found a number of things that I needed in the store. The employees were really helpful too. Then again, it was getting near closing time. I think they just wanted me to leave the store.

Now that I have towels, I plan to finally spend my first night in my new home tomorrow. Now if I could only find my flatware...

Bald Boy

I started writing posts about the bald boy, as Gloria likes to call him, on Online Misadventures. He's managed to stay around a couple of weeks so I decided it was about time he got a post here.

We were supposed to be going out tonight but then he called yesterday morning to say that tonight wouldn't work for him. There was some sort of work dinner thing that he had not planned on attending, but everyone started telling him that it was one of those necessary events. The plan was to go out last night instead.

I decided that dinner was a good idea because I'm in the middle of moving and don't have much food around. Also, I've been a little broke. He decided that since he chose the restaurant for our first date, that I could chose the restaurant this time. (I know what Gloria is thinking. Yes, that is a very dangerous thing.) Because I didn't want to drive too far, I picked Skates. It's this place on the Berkeley Marina that does wonderful things with seafood. I had their Hawaiian Ahi, one of the specials last night, and I wish I had brought a camera. The presentation was wonderful. For dessert we split a Cranberry Pear Apple Cobbler. After dinner we headed out to walk along the pier. Sicko that I am, I had to point out that this was around the area where Lacey Peterson's body was dumped. (See how romantic I can be?)

I needed that nice meal because today it was back to moving hell. If things go well though, I will have most of my stuff moved by the end of tomorrow. Next I'll have to start planning the housewarming party.

So much for fun

I am really excited about moving into the new apartment. One of the highlights is that there are bars and clubs crawling distance away. I think this is a key feature in looking for a place to live. It looks like I might have to put my partying on hold though.

Yesterday I was driving into work when I received a phone call from the other manager. Nothing strange there because we often call each other to warn of the insanity that is going on. What was the insanity yesterday? She had been fired. I was completely shocked. I knew that the bosses didn't necessarily like her, but I didn't really expect them to fire her. My boss was in a meeting when I got in. As soon as it was over, she wanted to talk but I had a meeting scheduled at that time. Then right after that one my former co-worker had a meeting scheduled that I had to cover. Needless to say, yesterday was a frantic, draining day.

So much for celebrating the new place. I'm not sure when I will have a semi-sane moment for some time. OK. So I rarely have sane moments, but at least they're usually fun.