The Joys of Moving

Saturday was our move-in day, which sounded great when we set it up after finally closing on our home last Tuesday. Sure, the air-conditioning had managed to stop working between our walk-through and closing, but someone had come by on Friday to fix it, and assured us that in a few hours it’d be back to normal. And everything was out of my old place and ready to be picked back up and moved. So easy, right?

Well, no. Not helping matters was Monday’s oral surgery, to which I’d been told quite firmly, “No strenuous activity.” Sure, we had movers. But on Tuesday when I’d hauled the three new rugs into my car, and then (with Charlie) from the car to the condo, just doing that had resulted in me having suspicious bloody specks in my mouth. So even moving heavy boxes around the condo upon placement was declared a big no. And of course, we’d gotten into the place on Saturday and were not even remotely greeted with cold air.

In short, the worst move I’d ever gone through. Being boiling hot, tired, sore, sick to my stomach (thanks to a week’s worth of antibiotics post-surgery), and hungry is not good. And of course, being told that Comcast will show up between 2-5pm and despite calling every half hour starting at 4:45 (and being assured that yes, the Comcast installer was still coming) and continuing to be a no-show at 7:50pm? Really not good. (The killer was starting around 6pm we’d even said, “We have no problem with rescheduling if this isn’t any time soon, just don’t string us along.” Argh. They put a credit on our bill by way of apology but still. Not cool.)

We finally left at 8pm and had what I can only describe as a “sanity-restoring dinner” at Mark’s Kitchen (the bibimbap was fantastic!), ice cream across the street, and just relaxed for an hour or so. And we ended up sleeping at Charlie’s old place so that we didn’t melt, which was also helpful.

Fortunately, Sunday was a big turn-around. We found someone to come out and properly diagnose and fix the air-conditioning (which was not only minor, but happily we were told that the unit is in great shape), we got a lot of stuff unpacked, and all of the new bedroom stuff put together. We’ve still got a lot of unpacking to do, but Sunday felt like major progress. It’s no longer a labyrinth of boxes, now it’s more of a bunch of clusters of boxes. I think by the end of the week we should be awfully close to being in shape.

The chorus of the weekend, from both of us: “You know we’re not moving again for a very, very long time.” It’s nice to be in agreement on that front.

Finally, Closure

It’s only 15 days later than planned, but it finally arrived: Charlie and I closed on our new home in the Takoma neighborhood of DC. That’s right, I am finally a homeowner. Also, that means after the end of this week, I am no longer homeless.

The original closing date was supposed to be June 27th, but I have learned something very important about buying a condo versus buying a house. There is a third party—the dreaded HOA management company—that can do things so slowly that your closing date keeps getting delayed. On the bright side, neither we nor the sellers had done anything wrong. All of us had everything in order, but we just kept getting delayed while waiting for required paperwork to finally arrive.

I probably wouldn’t have cared so much, save that I had to be out of my old place on July 5th. Oops. So, everything got packed up and moved to a temporary location (Hi Mom! Hi Dad!), as did I. But that brief stop-over is now almost at an end, and in a few days we can start focusing on our new neighborhood, unpacking all of those boxes, new license plates and driver’s license…

…wait, why was I looking forward to this again?

Oh yeah, that’s right. Our beautiful new home. I am utterly thrilled that it’s ours; partially because it’s a great place, and partially because it’s ours. I’ve never lived with a boyfriend before, and the last time I even lived with another person was 2001.

I’m looking foward to this new portion of my life immensely. Hello, Takoma. I’m thrilled to be here, finally.

Pop Stars, Inane Girl Groups, and Doctor Who Monsters

Today I had my long-delayed next step of my oral surgery, to replace two teeth that have been causing me problems ever since I cracked one of them while on a trip to Italy back in 1999. (It’s a long story involving root canals that eventually failed, got repaired, failed yet again, and finally had first one and then both teeth extracted.) Now that it had been long enough since the extractions, the order of the day was to put posts in that will hold the implants in place. In doing so, I learned three things today.

1) Dentists, when they get bored, like to dress their patients up like a mixture of Bono and Telly Savalas while telling them it is part of the prep work to apply a topical anesthetic. Do not be fooled. This is entirely for their own amusement, nothing more.

2) The lyrics to the Girls Aloud song “Long Hot Summer” are rather vapid, but the line that I’ve sneered at in particular (and there are so very very many to do so, despite the fact that I love the song) is “…and I’m shakin’ like a cool lemonade.” Well, it doesn’t matter how much I don’t feel pain during the procedure, and how good the dentist/oral surgeon is (he’s actually rather excellent), I was shakin’ like a cool lemonade the entire time. Seriously, I could feel myself trembling for most of it. I’m fine with teeth cleanings and the like, but I’ve had several horrible dental procedure experiences that I am pretty sure have mentally scarred me for life. It probably goes back to the time they were removing teeth in preparation for braces. I have been told by enough people to “never tell that story again” so I’ll spare you the details, save for the line, “and as my head snapped back, the dentist and hygenist shot backwards across the room and slammed into the far wall.”

Daleks in my Mouth

3) It turns out when they put dental implants in your mouth, they are really putting miniature Daleks inside you. The Dalek invasion has begun! Who knew? Not me!

Now if you don’t mind, it’s time for me to take a vicodin and hang out with an ice pack…