Moving (again, not me)
It’s amazing that you think you have the greatest group of friends until you mention that you need help moving. Surprisingly, everyone you know “has something going on” on that day. I thought it was just a quirk of my sister and her friends, but the more I help others, the more I notice it. I try to help others when I can because I know how much moving sucks. I don’t mind helping at all when I know the “mover” is organized and ready to move.
I helped K move today and I’m glad I made the effort to help. Her Facebook event didn’t give much detail other than she would feed her helpers with pizza and Pepsi. With the exception of one, everyone who said they would be there was at some point of the day. Also as a bonus for her female helpers was an extra helper — her hot contractor. I think he is married, but he sure was a great extra set of muscle to help (and easy on the eyes too!).
So K ended up taking the Megabus to New York to pick up her friend J. K’s belongings were packed away in a storage unit in New Jersey. She had arranged to pick up a moving truck and the plan was for her and J to load it and drive back to Pittsburgh. They arrived at the new house on Friday evening and the plan was to start unloading at 10 AM on Saturday morning. When I pulled up at 10 AM, they already had the truck half unloaded as they had started at 8:30!
I won’t bore you with all the details about the numbers of steps we had to climb and the fact that her queen-sized box springs wouldn’t fit up the steps to her bedrooms. I will share that K and her friend J have an awesome sense of humor and we had a great afternoon of innuendos and laughter. Nothing makes a move more fun than allowing the laughter to overtake the exhaustion.
After six hours, the unloading of the truck twice and the unloading of everyone’s cars, I finally excused myself to bring my teen home from his first day of work at the zoo. (It’s been a busy day!)
After dropping the teen off at his dad’s, I immediately put myself in a nice, HOT shower. I threw some shredded cheese on some tortilla chips, popped them in the microwave, and grabbed a beer. I’ve had my poor, sore feet propped up since then, and I’ve barely moved from my chair.
Keeping my word and showing up to help a friend on a stressful day? Totally worth the sore knee and throbbing feet!
To find out who truly loves you? Look around to see who shows up when you request help moving.
The best gift you can give someone is the gift of your time. I don’t know if that quote belongs to anyone, but it should be emblazoned on the sides of moving trucks.
Moving (Not Me)
My sister, Queen of Questionable Decisions, told me around the end of January that she decided to move in with her boyfriend (of ? number of months; she’s never been clear about how long they were ‘dating’).
The Queen is the mom of two children: her oldest is 15, her youngest is 7.
Apparently, the Queen had thought out her move carefully. She was going to move necessary items to the BF’s house in Bobtown, PA (Greene County, yikes!) and would place her furniture and household items not needed at a storage facility. Sounds like a good plan, right?
Before I left for my Rock Boat vacation, I made the mistake of telling the Queen that I could help her when I returned from my trip.
Some background: I have helped the Queen move at least ten times over the past 15 years. I am the only person who promises to help her and actually shows up. Her friends (the Smart Ones) forget, can’t make it, have other plans, or fill in the blank, when the Queen mentions moving. For one move, it was me, the Queen, and one of her friends. Of the three of us, I was the only one who was not post-gastric bypass surgery with restrictions on heavy lifting. That move involved icy roads and rickety steps into an apartment. Don’t be jealous.
So I’m sitting in the Orlando airport waiting for my flight home from my awesome vacation. I text the Queen to inquire as to how her move was going. (She had given three weeks’ notice at her job and her last day was the week before I left on vacation. She had an entire week to get started on packing.)
Our text exchange:
What the F happened when I was away? Oh wait, I’m getting off track of the subject of this post. SQUIRREL!
Back to the move. I gave my kids the option of coming with me to help or staying home and sleeping in. My smart kids elected to stay home and sleep in.
The plan was for her to arrive with the U-Haul truck at 10 AM. At 9:45, when I am 10 minutes away from arrival at her house, I get a text from her that she should be there at 10:30.
Me: That’s ok, I have a key and can let myself in.
Queen: I changed the locks on New Years.
Awesome! After two cups of coffee and a 45 minute drive, I need to pee! Sister shows up within 10 minutes. Whew, that was close.
So I take a look around. I don’t see a packed box in sight. I see closets and dressers still full of clothes. I see jewelry still hanging from hooks. In her kids’ room, there are containers full of toys (that are never played with). It’s 10:15 and I’m ready to burst into tears. Nothing is ready. Nothing is marked on whether it’s going to the new house or going to storage.
Her new husband shows up with his cousin. So there’s 4 of us and only 3 of us can carry heavy stuff. (She’s post-surgery and restricted to no heavy lifting.) Here we go again! Her husband has no clue on how to move or pack a moving truck! About an hour into trying to get her organized, my mom and step-dad show up. Whew, at least another body who can help carry stuff! I joke a million times (not exaggerating) about signing the Queen up for Hoarders.
Thanks to my bossiness, we get the truck loaded with the items going to Bobtown. The husband’s cousin had to be home by 2:30, so they headed to unload. Mom, step-dad, and I aren’t making the drive to unload so we head to lunch. Their ETA to return with truck is within 2-1/2 hours. We have lunch, hang out at mom’s house to kill time, and head back to sister’s around 2:30. She soon calls and say’s she’ll be there in a hour (3:30). Fabulous! I had hoped to leave by 4 so this was just awesome news. (#Sarcasm)
To speed things up, we begin carrying and lining up the items going to storage. To make a long story short, we get the truck loaded with items going to storage. It’s now 4:15. Since I had left my kids at home all day, I am now ready to leave. I apologized for not sticking around to unload at the storage unit, but I wanted to get home to my kids.
Once I get home, I pass out for a two hour coma nap. I wake up to a text thanking me for my help, and stating that “she did everything by herself.” I still don’t know what she thinks she did since NOTHING was packed or ready. After dinner and a hot shower, I am back in bed at 10 PM and sound asleep within minutes. Exciting Saturday night in my life!
LESSON LEARNED: The next time my sister mentions moving that does not involve a professional moving team, I am busy.
It was just yesterday!
Seventeen!
I am the mom of a seventeen year old!
It was just yesterday that I decided to go off birth control.
It was just yesterday that I got pregnant.
It was just yesterday that I was admitted for induction.
It was just yesterday that I was sent home with a delightful bundle of joy.
It was just yesterday that the handsome little boy I gave birth to started kindergarten.
And then middle school.
And then high school.
Holy crap, he’s a junior in high school! He’s (hopefully) getting his driver’s license within the next few months. We’re choosing classes for his senior year of high school. He’s thinking about attending college. He’s trying to find a summer job (fingers crossed for the second interview at the Zoo!).
He’ll be a senior soon.
Senior pictures.
Girlfriends.
Senior prom.
High school graduation.
The kids laugh at my tears at the end of Toy Story 3. How am I going to make it tear-free through graduation? It’s going to be impossible!
While he may be an introvert and doesn’t like to do much with mom these days, I have been blessed with handsome, well-mannered, polite young adult. ::sniffle, sniffle::
He is 17 today, and I wish him the happiest of birthdays!
Can someone please show me the rewind button?
Mid-January Resolution Report
So we’re about three-quarters of the way through January and I’m making progress with my monthly resolution for weight loss, eating healthier, and adding exercise to my daily routine. Is it still true that two out of three ain’t bad?
I’ve been trying to follow a low carb-type diet. Giving up bread and pasta has been fairly easy. I do, however, miss the easy bowl of cereal for dinner! I’ve been good at packing my lunch. I’ve been out socially for the past two weekends and have limited myself to diet coke only (and I’ve still had a good time!). I’ve drastically cut back on making any type of “processed” foods. I have, however, also allowed myself one day per week to “cheat” per se. This has been beneficial as I’ve been able to eat something I’ve been craving, but I have not gone completely overboard. (Yay, Me!)
So far, my reward for watching my food intake has been a loss of four pounds. Again, this time around, I forgot to weigh myself on the first day. (I hope I’ll learn sooner rather than later.) While I’m anxious for the pounds to drop off, I know it will take some time, and a little more effort in the exercise arena. I used a Christmas gift card to buy a kettle bell weight set. My next goal is to pop in the DVD and actually work out! Baby steps, right?
Thankful
I hate hearing stories on the news about domestic violence cases, especially ones that involve young women.
What happened to Karissa Kunco could have happened to me.
At the young age of 20, I became involved with, moved in with, and eventually engaged to a man who was not right for me. He lived across the country road from my grandmother. I had been infatuated with him since my younger teenage years, and we reacquainted after I wrecked my mom’s car and needed auto body work. My sister had recommended him to do the job, and my only “charge” for the work was a date with him. As the relationship evolved, I learned just how addicted to alcohol and cocaine he was. He was frequently jealous and it was a volatile relationship. I thought I could change him.
I packed up and moved out numerous times, a few times with just the clothes on my back. Unfortunately, my moves were across the street to my grandmother’s which was not far enough away from him. Break-ups were always followed by apologies and empty promises. I was young and inexperienced and didn’t know how to break the cycle. There’s more to the story that I’m not comfortable sharing here, but in August 1988, my life changed. I cooperated in the investigation and prepared to testify in front of a judge. In the end, he accepted the plea that was offered and went to jail. I was left to rebuild my life.
I was a fortunate one. I was able to get away. Unfortunately, not without experiencing some violence and trauma myself, but I was able to break free. Sadly, Karissa Kunco was not. My heart breaks for her family.
Hopefully, my experience has taught me the skills to educate my own daughter and to watch for any signs of a controlling or volatile relationship. Having been there, I hope to recognize the signs and be able to share my story with her. If I’m lucky, it will continue to be my secret.
A YEAR OF RESOLUTIONS – January
In years past, I have joined the masses and come up with a list of resolutions that I typically forget about by mid-month. The resolutions usually revolve around weight loss and financial health with ideas of eating healthier, exercising, and getting back on my feet financially. I saw a tweet from someone (can’t remember who) who mentioned that they were doing one resolution per month, and I thought to myself, this is a great idea! Rather than make that laundry list of resolutions that I’ll end up ignoring, I’m make one resolution per month, starting in January.
January’s resolution will still revolve around weight loss, eating healthier, and adding exercise to my daily routine. With The Rock Boat not setting sail until March, I have two months to whip myself into some type of “boat shape.” I’ve been very sloppy with my diet over the past six months and have not been as active as previous years. Since I have previously had success with a low carb diet, I am going to try this method again. I’m only a week in, but I seem to be doing okay, and have lost at least 3.5 lbs to date (I forgot to weigh myself on Day 1). Cutting the carbs from my diet has not been a huge sacrifice, however, my sweet tooth still craves a bite of something after lunch and dinner every day. I’ll be hitting the internet to find some low-carb friendly dessert options to get me through the next two months.
Also starting soon will be some type of exercise program. Due to the holidays and my work schedule, I have been absent from my twice a week yoga practices. I resolve to get back into the practice of attending these free classes on my lunch break during the work week. I have also returned to the weekend pick-up game of Ultimate Frisbee. Running around for an hour should help shed some pounds! In addition to yoga and ultimate frisbee, I am also going to try to throw in some work outs with weights and/or my exercise ball. It’s time to get rid of this belly pooch and the bat wing arms that I have, as well as help me feel and look better!
So there’s my plan for January! While I’m walking around the neighborhood listening to the tunes on my phone, I’ll need to think of a resolution for February.
So how are you coming along on your list?
Happy New Year 2012
I had grand intentions to write a “year in review” and “year ahead” post, but enjoyed the holiday break instead.
My sister recently posted this to her Facebook profile. I liked the message, so I borrowed it to share here. It’s a great first step looking ahead for the New Year!
Note to self:
A brand-new year… to live; to believe; to give; to receive; to fall in love; to share a smile; to walk an inch; to run a mile; to dive into sunsets; to forgive; to forget; to love where you’re going; to embrace where you’ve been; to take a deep breath, close your eyes… and begin. May the new year be filled with love, adventure, and dreams come true.
Motivation for 2012!
[image credit: http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photography-happy-new-year-2012-image17661057%5D
Recovery Update
I don’t want to get too excited.
But I heard from the man who is spending his days off to check out my computer (and he’s not charging me $500 like the Geek Squad!).
He’s 48 hours into scanning it.
He thinks everything can be saved.
But shhhhhh, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to jinx it.
I’m quietly doing a happy dance!
Trusting Tuesday
So I am a day behind for NaBloPoMo. My body is not adjusting well to the “fall ahead” time change. While everyone is happy about the extra hour of sleep, I woke at 5 AM on Sunday morning. Yes, 5 AM after getting in at 11 on Saturday night and not falling asleep until close to midnight.
On Monday, I checked the “Geek Squad” at Best Buy to research the cost of the possible hard disk recovery of my laptop. Can you say sticker shock? A basic recovery attempt begins around $250, mid-level recovery is around $500, and extensive recovery could run $1600+. I was ready to burst into tears. My laptop is less than three years old. I paid barely $500 for the laptop in the first place. I could not see paying someone $500 to recovery the handful of files I hope to recover. Did I back up my files? No, of course not. Lesson learned!
This is where I begin to gush about how much I love the Twitter community.
I happened to tweet that I had sticker shock at the Geek Squad’s recovery prices. In less than a few minutes, I get a reply directed to me from @enophiledude (Ted #1) recommending that @tedwardsdesign (Ted #2) take a look at it. Ted #2 tweets back at me to see what the problem is. A few tweets and direct messages (DMs) later, we make plans to meet. Shortly after making these plans, I get another reply from @pghjen volunteering her husband to take a look at it.
I won’t say that I wasn’t nervous handing over my dead laptop to a complete stranger. But I’ve met Ted #1 and he wouldn’t recommend someone he didn’t know or trust. So I handed off my baby to Ted #2 with a list of items I hope to recover. He has even volunteered to research prices for a new hard drive for me.
So dear Twitter, at first I did not understand you. Over the past year and a half, I have become to trust the people who reside behind their avators, whether I have met them in person or not. Thanks to the recommendation of someone, I am hopeful to recover some of files from my dead hard drive, without having to contact a loan shark or sell a kidney to do so. It’s a win-win-win situation. If I’m lucky, my files will be retrievable. Ted #1 will be thanked for the recommendation with beers from Bocktown. Ted #2 will be paid for his time and attempted retrieval, and he’s more than welcome to join Ted #1 and I for beverages.
Thank you Twitter!
Whew, I Needed That and WTF!
There’s nothing better than working yourself up to a good sweat and getting the heart pumping.
Shame on you! Get your mind out of the gutter!
I’m talking about shedding the work clothes, throwing on the sneakers, turning up the music, and heading out for a mind-clearing, heart-pumping walk around the neighborhood. I walked at least two miles but I didn’t catch how long it took me. It was a dark and crisp night; you could smell Fall in the air. Taking care of myself needs to be my priority again. My weight is out of control. My cruise is in four months. I have a goal.
In the WTF department, I got a call from the principal at Social Diva’s middle school. It seems that a teacher received a rather threatening reply from the Ex-Husband. He informed the teacher that she needs to “ask” rather than “tell” people what to do, and if he receives such an e-mail from her again, he is going to “hunt her down.” The teacher was concerned, the Principal was concerned, and the police were notified. Seriously? Who does such a thing? According to the Principal, he denied that he sent it, saying that his account had been hacked. I, on the other hand, couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the need to reply to her email after a few drinks. The Principal didn’t know our living situation (really?), but I reassured him that we have lived in separate households for the past ten years. Sadly, I could not provide any insight into why he would do such a thing. What does one do in this situation? I want to email the teacher, but I’m at a loss for words.
Today was certainly one of those days when I was happy to admit that I was no longer married.
The Bitch Desk 